


Forgiveness Is a Start

by breathe_out



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathe_out/pseuds/breathe_out
Summary: Shane's suicide attempt leaves the farmer distraught. When he finally stops by her farm to apologize, she can't hide her true feelings from him any longer.(Farmer is she/her - not given a name).
Relationships: Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 107





	Forgiveness Is a Start

She awakens late into the afternoon, when the cat pounces on her bed and begs for food. The sunlight filtering through her curtains is blinding, and she shields her eyes from its glare. The incessant meowing is irritating, but she dutifully drags herself out from under her covers to feed it. The house is darker than usual, with the shades drawn over the windows and blocking out the sun. It’s quite a stark difference from the usual sunlight and open windowpanes that usually put life into the room. While she dumps kitty chow into a bowl, she internally berates herself for sleeping in. A laundry list of work that has yet to be done is scrolling through her head. She sighs and slumps on the floor with her back against the kitchen wall. 

“I’m so tired, Snickers.” She says to the cat. She wishes that she could adopt the carefree attitude of her feline friend. 

It’s been three days since that night, when she found Shane in the forest. He had spoken of dying with such ease that it had shaken her to her very core. 

_What’s stopping me from rolling off this cliff?_

She wraps her arms around her knees. Her heart beats hard in her chest. Shane is such a mirror of herself that it’s scary. Although she had managed to leave her old city life behind, her depression and anxiety had managed to follow. She had fine-tuned her mask and put on a brave face when she moved into town. Slowly, she had met the locals and befriended each one. But Shane had been different; gruff, hateful and angry. The first time she had seen him, she thought that he looked like a man that despised the world. She recognized that expression all too well – that painful, desolate feeling of isolation that wrought your body and tore at your soul. The townspeople had warned her about approaching him, but she had immediately decided to take it upon herself to squeeze into his life. She felt that he needed to know that someone understands his pain. 

The difficult part became juggling his issues and her own. He had fallen so deeply into despair that it took a lot of energy and time to encourage him to claw his way out. But she never gave up on him – never. Things got worse until it all seemed to come to a climax at the cliffside, where Shane had literally drunk himself to a near death. She had lugged his limp body all the way through the forest and into town, straight to Dr. Harvey. She had cried the entire time that she had waited in the hospital. Harvey had saved him, but at what cost? 

Will Shane change? Will he realize that he has so much to live for? Or did she delay the inevitable?

Tears slide down her cheeks as a sob breaks the silence. She knows that she has fallen in love with him. It seems hopeless and cruel, to love someone so like herself. Facing him meant facing her own demons and, although she had pulled him up from squalor, it’s as if she’s being dragged down. So many suppressed memories and horrible emotions have broken through the cracks in her mask since she met Shane. While he is always an open book when he drinks, she hides herself away. He’s already dealing with his own mental health issues, so why should she burden him with her own? It doesn’t feel right to put so much responsibility into one person. Plus, the last thing she wanted to do is make things worse.

She contemplates climbing back into bed. Her depression has been at an all-time high – keeping her in bed to sleep through the days and toss and turn at night. She can’t bring herself to climb back out; she cannot admit that she probably needs as much help as Shane. 

Her phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. The sound makes her throat close up. She hasn’t checked her messages or bothered to answer calls since that night. She rises to her feet on shaky legs and picks up the phone. Several of the messages are from Marnie – where have you been? Are you okay? Do you want me to stop by? But she’s focused on the most recent one, sent yesterday: Shane is doing better today. Then the one she received a moment ago: Shane is coming by to check on you. 

Her heart leaps in her chest, along with a strong sense of anxiety. Before she can even process the implications of what she’d read, there’s a soft knock on the front door. 

“Hey, are you home?” It’s Shane. His voice is clear and strong – sober.

A million butterflies are bursting in her stomach. A shiver runs down her spine like a cold breeze. She walks over and unlocks the door to swing it open. The onslaught of afternoon light burns her corneas, but she forces herself to see through it to the man standing on her porch. She stares, awestruck and relieved. Shane is standing only a foot away, rubbing the back of his neck shyly and staring at everything but her. His skin is less pale, and his eyes seem to sparkle with a hint of clarity that she has not seen in him in weeks. 

“Hey, I just wanted to apologize for-.” He stops mid-sentence when he finally looks at her – _really_ looks. She can imagine what he’s seeing: her wrinkled pajamas hanging loosely off her body, the mess of a bun that she hasn’t brushed out since the day before, the dark circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep. “Woah, what happened, doll?” 

In that instance, his concern for her breaks down the flood walls. Something deep inside her chest seems to finally snap, and within seconds she’s crying and sobbing in the door frame. Her eyes are downcast and she’s hugging herself. She tries to wipe the tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt, but the flood of tears dripping down her face are too much. 

“You – you’re worried about _me_?” She asks between sniffles. 

The notion seems so ridiculous to her. The man in front of her had attempted suicide only days ago, and he shows up worried about her. She holds her midsection tightly, as if she is covering a wound to staunch the flow of emotions pouring out of her. 

Suddenly, a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around her and gently bring her close. Shane is rubbing gentle circles on her back as she continues to cry. His cheek rests against her head. 

“I’m here,” He whispers. “I’ve got you.”

His chest rises and falls with even breathes. She lays her head on his bicep, simply feeling him breathe and listening to the faint sound of his heartbeat through his lime shirt. 

They stay like that for a while as the minutes blur into each other. She calms down and grips his jacket with her fingers, terrified that he will disappear if she doesn’t hold onto him. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. 

She steps away from him, still trying to scrub the wetness off of her face. His expression is pained. At a loss for words, she simply nods. Shane opens his mouth to speak again, until he notices her shivering from the cold. 

“Do you want to talk inside?” He asks. 

“Yea, sure.” Her voice is barely audible. 

She holds the door open for him to come inside. He has never stepped inside her house before, and part of herself is nervous at what he might say. It definitely doesn’t look very homey at the moment, with the windows covered and the entire room entrenched in darkness. 

She tries to gather the decency to at least feel embarrassed, but a heavy weight has settled in her heart. She watches Shane observe the living room curiously, while she shifts back-and-forth on her feet near the door. 

“I-I can make some coffee.” She offers. 

Shane’s smiling ever so slightly – it’s a heartwarming expression that has been such a rarity since they met. “I’m good.”

She dumbly nods again. She doesn’t know what to say. He had never held her so tenderly before. Sure, they had shared brief physical contact in the past - holding hands and leaning against each other on chillier Fall nights - but this was different. 

Shane handles these tense moments just as badly as she does. He moves to sit on the couch by the fireplace as he talks. “Dr. Harvey and Marnie told me what you did.” His eyes soften, “I want to thank you.” 

“It was the right thing to do.” She says, not quite meeting his gaze.

He pauses a moment. “You saved me.” 

She crosses the room to sit next to him; her knees feel like jelly. 

This is it – this is the culmination of everything that they’ve worked to do since they met. They’ve gradually chiseled away at each other. Now the walls that she had worked so hard to build are crumbling down. 

“When I woke up, I had no idea that I was in the hospital. Dr. Harvey said that I nearly died from alcohol poisoning.” He reaches out his hand to tilt her head up – he wants to see her face. She’s breathless. “He also said that I wouldn’t be here, if you hadn’t found me.” 

She inhales a shaky breath to steady herself. The tears are rolling down her cheeks again. She cannot recall a time in which she had cried so much in one day. But Shane is good at bringing everything out of her. It’s like he’s broken a dam inside her, allowing every single feeling that she’s tamped down loose. 

“I was so worried.” She confesses. “M-Marnie and Jas need you.” A single sob shakes her. “But I’ve realized that I need you, too.” She takes Shane’s hand into her own, trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

He lifts it to place a tender kiss against her knuckles. “I am so sorry, doll.” He lays back against the head of the couch. “I-I was an idiot. A selfish, blind idiot.” 

“Don’t do that to yourself – please.” She begs.

Shane glances over at her in question. 

She exhales in an attempt to relieve the lump that seems to have formed in her throat. “Don’t put yourself down. I think that you’re amazing.” She blushes and continues, “We all make mistakes.” 

She can tell that Shane is trying his best to suppress his bemused smile. “I appreciate that.” He says. She’s grateful that he didn’t mention her compliment. He sits forward to look at her, and his smile fades a bit. “I would have checked in sooner, but Harvey sent me to Zuzu city to see a therapist. It wasn’t so bad. When I got back, Marnie told me that you’ve been locked up in your house for days.” He hesitates, unsure if he’s treading on sensitive territory. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Silence hangs in the air between them. The weight in her chest feels so damn heavy. 

“I saved you for selfish reasons, Shane.” She says.

His eyes widen, but he stays silent to let her continue. He sits forward to properly look at her again. 

“My-My mother was an alcoholic.” She can’t bear to see him, so she looks at their linked hands instead. “She was in and out of rehab for years – since I was a little girl.” She shutters, and she barely registers Shane lightly squeezing her hand in encouragement. “I couldn’t save her.” She gasps out. “I moved here to-to get away from all of it. But, I’m still not the same. I’m still not well. Then I met you and-and I thought – even though I couldn’t save my mother from herself, I could save you.” 

The weight seems to lighten when she finishes. She doesn’t realize that she’s shaking so badly until Shane brings her close to his chest. He gently shushes her, and she’s clutching his hand so tightly that she’s probably cut off his blood. She leans against Shane – he releases her hand to bring her closer. His arms are wrapped around her body; she feels so small and delicate. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, “I feel so selfish.” 

Shane combs his fingers through her long silky hair. “You’re not.” His voice is firm. “You’re absolutely selfless and so, so compassionate.” He pauses a moment, as if debating something. She feels him heave with a heavy sigh. “That’s why I love you so much.” 

She leans her head back to look up at his face, not sure if she heard him correctly. He’s blushing ever so slightly, but he also seems determined – as if this is something that he’s wanted to get off his chest for a long time. 

And she doesn’t even have to think about a response, because the words come automatically. They tumble out of her lips in a hushed whisper, as if saying such a delicate thing too loud will make it untrue. “I love you, too.” 

Shane reaches to cup her face in his hand. He rubs his thumb over her freckled cheek. They lean in at the same time, hesitant at first, and then with more certainty as they get closer. His lips are soft and slow. A rush of giddiness rises in her stomach and makes her heart beat faster. The sheer feeling of joy that’s flooding her body is foreign, yet entirely pleasant. 

When they part, her lips feel cold. She doesn’t like it, so she presses herself more firmly against him and kisses him again. He reacts with the same vigor - until their lips are moving faster and more hungrily, like they have somehow starved each other of affection. Her mouth parts to let him in, and she’s quickly losing herself in the bliss of the moment. 

Shane pulls back to kiss the corner of her lips, then the bridge of her nose and the line of her jaw. She giggles and bats him away playfully. He’s smiling and the sight of it makes fireworks burst in her heart. She moves to lean back into his chest, with one of his arms curled around her shoulder and the other resting against her abdomen. 

“Well,” She starts, “That was awesome.” 

Shane laughs in reply and places a kiss on the top of her head. 

Finally, they can be together without restraint. The sensation is dizzying. It’s been a year since she met him, yet so much has changed. Shane isn’t the gruff, unfriendly man that sat alone in the saloon to drink away his sorrow. She was no longer the shy, elusive farmgirl wearing a mask to hide her real feelings. They will no longer have to force themselves to hold back and tread carefully across unspoken emotions. They won’t have to avoid the awkward space that always seemed to hang between them during heartfelt moments. 

“Should I buy you a bouquet?” She asks suddenly. 

Shane snorts. “I’d say no, but it’s a tradition here.” He seems to breathe more easily – she can feel his chest rise and fall rhythmically. “We could go half-and-half on it.” 

“Save your coin, silly. If that’s what it takes to make it official, I’ll buy you one-hundred bouquets.” 

Shane is silent for a moment, but she enjoys the quiet. She no longer has to bear it alone. The sky has grown dark outside as the sun sets low in the west. Her chickens chirp in the distance and the world is peaceful. It’s grown darker in the house, although neither of them mind. They share each other’s company in a comfortable lapse of words. 

“I can’t believe you really like me.” Shane finally says. “I feel so lucky.”

She hums in response and plays with his fingers, gently bending them and inspecting his nails and the grooves in his knuckles. “No more secrets.” She states, tilting her head back to stare up at him. She lifts her hand, gently cusping Shane’s stubbly jaw. She can’t stop touching him now. 

His lips uplift in the warmest smile and disappear as he softly places them against her forehead. “No more secrets.” He agrees.

Then, her stomach growls. She cringes at the loudness of it. Shane’s eyebrows lift in amusement. “When was the last time you ate?” 

She tries not to squirm under his probing eyes. The past few days had melted together into one big blur. “Uh, I don’t remember.” 

Shane shakes his head, but he doesn’t appear to be mad. “I can cook – kind of.” He adds.

She laughs, “Using a microwave doesn’t count.” 

Shane rolls his eyes and it makes her laugh even more. Then, she slumps against him, somewhat ashamed. “I can’t cook at all.” 

“Do you wanna just go to the saloon? Emily makes a kick-ass pepperoni pizza.” 

She lights up instantly. “Sure! Let me go change.” She jumps to her feet in excitement as Shane peels himself off the couch.

In minutes, they’re strolling out the front door and onto the path to town. Shane takes her hand and doesn’t let go.

Things are far from perfect. They have plenty of demons to conquer. Shane’s therapy is a start, but he still drinks more than he probably should. His low self-esteem will be a bumpy hill that they’ll have to climb together. Her depression won’t magically disappear overnight – it’s an ongoing issue that they will both have to work on. Their shared social anxiety makes it difficult to form relationships with others. They continue to harbor unimaginable guilt from trauma in the past – something that is self-destructive and unhealthy for them both. It wasn’t going to be an easy road to recovery for either of them. 

Love won't fix everything, but it's a start.


End file.
